Sorry, I've gotta vent again...at least I'm consistent. So I go to my dad's this morning and I find him passed out on the bathroom floor. Oh, man...my heart rate jumps to mach 5 again. This is the second time this week I've found him passed out on the floor. The other day he fell out of bed and continued sleeping. The hospital bed w/rails is being delivered tomorrow, and I have to insist on someone being with him around the clock. That will be no easy task as he still can be quite stubborn. He's one tough cookie who is hanging on to any independence that he can, and I appreciate that but now it's clear his safety is in jeopardy. Today the hospice nurse told me I'm going to need the patience of a saint in caring for him. Then my brother calls to tell me that my mom stopped breathing during her colonoscopy. I don't know if it was too much anesthesia or what, but fortunately she seems to be okay, and fortunately this day is coming to an end. I'm going to take a Xanax and try to pass out for awhile myself. It's so frustrating to see all of this and not being able to do anything as far as making the physical and mental hurt go away. What I wouldn't give to be able to change all of this.